Dr. Dre’s The Chronic possesses timeless quality and social relevance

Welcome to Classics’ Corner, a weekly music blog that reviews classic albums from a wide variety of genres. Every week will examine an album considered influential to its genre and generally innovative. Artists profiled will range from Nas to Led Zeppelin. The featured albums’ impact, style and legacy will be explored. The ultimate goal is to spread appreciation for these great pieces of work, and to get USC students interested in or reacquainted with them.

This week, I’ll delve into the world of West Coast gangsta rap by reviewing perhaps its most important and iconic album — Dr. Dre’s The Chronic. Dre’s first solo effort, this album was released by the newly formed Death Row label. Dre had recently had an ugly split with former NWA co-member Eazy-E over contract disagreements. His contributions to NWA as a producer had already established Dre as a critical component in the development of gangsta rap. But with The Chronic, Dre created the sound that would define ’90s West Coast rap — “G-Funk.”

The Chronic is widely regarded as the best-produced album in the history of rap — and for good reason. Dre essentially created a new sub-genre of rap by mixing his adoration of funk music with traditional boom-bap sensibilities, resulting in smooth, lush and intricate beats. The drums and bass — often sampled from songs by funk legend George Clinton — were fat and velvety, contrasting directly with the sparse rhythmic backbone created by traditionalists on the East Coast. And of course, The Chronic introduced Dre’s signature synth sound; his wailing wormhole and saw leads became a staple of West Coast production.

Dre’s innovative production didn’t just change rap’s sonic landscape; it introduced a new attitude, a new approach to the genre. Whereas East Coast — a production ­­most notably that of Wu-Tang’s RZA — reveled in minimalism, Dre’s “G-Funk” oozed excess. Traditional beats were bare and tense; “G-Funk” was the musical embodiment of instant gratification.

The Chronic introduced the world to Snoop Doggy Dogg, a young and skinny Long-Beach native who had a flow as smooth as butter. The album should really be considered a joint effort, since Snoop appears with Dre on almost every track. Snoop’s laid-back delivery meshed well with Dre’s husky and forceful vocals. The two would frequently trade bars, making for some of the best back-and-forth in rap history.

One obvious example is the album’s centerpiece, “Ain’t Nothin’ but a G Thang.” The now-iconic song is gangsta rap’s finest, and is one of the most influential songs to come out of the ’90s. “G Thang” captures perfectly the essence of The Chronic as a whole — it is sometimes fun, sometimes violent, sometimes misogynistic, and always unapologetic. The song featured themes (the pursuit of women, partying, gang-banging, and love for one’s city) that became common in gangsta rap. And the layered, perfectly-mixed instrumental puts Dre’s notorious perfectionism on full display.

Despite “Aint Nothin’ but a G-Thang’s” relaxed lyrical content, one should not dismiss The Chronic as purely a party record. The album is teeming with tension, which didn’t come as a surprise since it was released the same year as the Los Angeles Riots of 1992. In fact, The Chronic serves as a sort of blueprint for the riots. Track four, “The Day The N—-z Took Over” features audio recordings of coverage of the riots that capture the chaos Los Angeles and Compton endured during those five days in spring. But Dre and his crew don’t condemn that chaos. Rather, they relish it. The song essentially encourages looting. The song might seem troubling, but no one can accuse it of being unrealistic.

Dr. Dre (among many others) was often criticized for glorifying gang violence. Dre argued, however, that he wasn’t glorifying gang life — he was merely describing it in its entirety. His assertion is strengthened by the presence of songs like “Lil Ghetto Boy,” which examines the loss of innocence as young black men in Compton turn to gang life. “Things done changed on this side/Remember they used to thump, but now they blast, right,” laments Dre. But ultimately, Dre and Snoop continue to be unapologetic about the violence committed in the song’s storyline. The track is by no means anti-gang. Again, it (supposedly) reports a reality.

And so, The Chronic can be seen as a series of battles — battles against the police, battles against the white establishment, and battles within the Compton community. From these battles come misogyny, a deep sense of machismo, an obligation to protect one’s territory, drugs and alcohol, and, of course, violence. These themes, combined with the record’s maximalistic production, make The Chronic an assault on the senses in the best possible way.

With the release of the Straight Outta Compton movie, along with the recent protests against police brutality in Ferguson, Baltimore and elsewhere around the country, The Chronic is as relevant today as it was when it was released. Its production is timeless ­­— hopefully its content isn’t. Either way, revisiting this album always proves to be a rewarding experience.

Nima Aminian is a junior majoring in economics. His column, Classics’ Corner, runs every Thursday.